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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672449">Something Pink</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlybloomingparentheses/pseuds/earlybloomingparentheses'>earlybloomingparentheses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Curtain Fic, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:26:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlybloomingparentheses/pseuds/earlybloomingparentheses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco gets a haircut.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>171</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Something Pink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblackdog/pseuds/bigblackdog">bigblackdog</a>, and anybody else who needs something sweet right now.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It turns out Draco hates the color green. He insists to Harry it’s not because of its association with Slytherin and the Dark Arts; he says he’s secretly hated it his whole life.</p>
<p>“It gives me a headache,” he tells Harry. “It’s either obnoxiously bright or depressingly dull.”</p>
<p>So they don’t paint their kitchen walls Chartreuse Charmer, though the witch in the paint shop insists it would give the room a nice cheery look. (“Like someone cheerily vomited,” Draco grumbles under his breath.) Nor do they choose the plates patterned with forest green willow branches, which make Harry nostalgic for the Hogwarts grounds.</p>
<p>“Nostalgic for the time you almost got beaten to death by a tree?” Draco drawls, standing in the middle of Hestia’s Homewares in Diagon Alley and looking, as he often does, like he thinks Harry is completely mental—but in a sweet way. “Let’s add ‘romanticization of near-fatal experiences’ to your list of things to bring up at your next therapy appointment.”</p>
<p>Harry snorts. “If you think that’s not one of our top three discussion topics already—”</p>
<p>Draco waves a hand. “Yes, yes, what was I thinking. How about these?”</p>
<p>The dishes are cream-colored, with clusters of tiny golden flowers around the edges and flecks of pink throughout. Harry raises his eyebrows, thinking at first that Draco’s having him on, but his boyfriend is examining a delicate dessert plate quite earnestly.</p>
<p>“You really like them?” Harry asks. They’re a bit frilly for his taste, but he doesn’t actually mind; he’s here more because Draco insisted they choose things for their new flat before they get in the habit of using Harry’s old crappy stuff left over from whatever Ron and Hermione didn’t take when they moved out than because of any strong desire to purchase kitchen towels.</p>
<p>“Yes,” says Draco slowly. “Yes, I think I do.” He looks up at Harry suddenly, smiling so broadly his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I think I like the color pink.”</p>
<p>Harry can’t help but grin back. He still favors scarlet and gold, out of habit as much as anything else, but he knows that it’s meant a lot to Draco recently to have started developing aesthetic preferences that are his own and not his family’s. No dark, heavy furniture; no gloomy wall hangings. The sunny yellow curtains they chose for their living room were one of the first decisions they made about the flat together, and he suspects he’ll always treasure the memory of Draco running his hands over the fabric and saying softly, “These.”</p>
<p>“Get the flower plates,” he says in a burst of fondness. “Get the matching goblets, too, if you like.”</p>
<p>“Are you going to drink your dreadful protein potions out of ceramic floral goblets, then?” Draco asks waspishly, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“No, we’re also getting those indestructible glasses,” Harry says, pointing to the shelf labeled DURABLE DISHWEAR. “I know they’re ugly, I don’t care, I’m going to break anything too pretty or fragile but I want you to have nice stuff anyway. So I’ll use those instead.”</p>
<p>Pink rises on Draco’s cheeks and he ducks his head a little. “Your big clumsy hands, you probably will break these,” he murmurs, fingering the delicate plate.</p>
<p>The wizard at the counter wraps up their purchases and they arrange to have them sent to their flat by owl later that day. Back out in the sunshine, Harry takes Draco’s hand in his and tugs him towards a small side street, an idea having occurred to him while they were checking out.</p>
<p>“What’s down this way?” Draco asks, frowning. “The Apothecary is next on our list—”</p>
<p>“We’re taking a detour.”</p>
<p>“But—”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” says Harry fondly, and leads Draco down the winding cobblestone lane to a tiny storefront with big silver scissors opening and shutting above its glass door.</p>
<p>“Snips &amp; Spells,” Draco reads off the sign. “Why…”</p>
<p>“You’ve been threatening to cut your hair for over a year now. Let’s do it.”</p>
<p>Draco stares at the barbershop and then at Harry. “I…” He clears his throat. “I’m not sure…”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you are. Let me be impulsive for you for once,” Harry says, pushing open the door and muttering, “if you can call doing something after a year of agonizing about it impulsive.”</p>
<p>The plump witch inside greets Harry with pleased surprise. “Harry! Good to see you. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be due for another…” Her voice trails off as she sees Draco.</p>
<p>Draco looks slightly nervous. Years of dating Harry Potter have done wonders for his public image, but he’s still hesitant with new people.</p>
<p>“Well, well, well,” says the witch, tapping her long purple nails on the counter. “Harry’s been telling me his boyfriend needed a new hairdresser for ages now. I’m glad you’ve finally come to me. You’re lucky, my usual appointment for this time cancelled. Sit.” She points briskly to the bright pink rotating chair and Draco obediently does so, looking nervous again. Harry doesn’t blame him; the first time he met Sylvania, when Ginny brought him here, he was rather cowed, too.</p>
<p>He’s about to walk things back a little and reassure Draco that he doesn’t actually have to cut his hair if he doesn’t want to when Draco says composedly, “I’d like it quite short. But not…” He hesitates. “Not too…”</p>
<p>“Butch?” Sylvania suggests. She taps her finger knowingly against her nose. “No. We can do short and soft.”</p>
<p>Draco looks quietly pleased. Harry sits hastily down in the extra chair and tries not to look startled.</p>
<p>Sylvania does her job expertly and efficiently. Draco’s pale locks, which had been growing dangerously in the direction of his father’s old haircut, fall away; a light, feathered look starts to take shape, one that somehow softens the sharp angles of Draco’s face.</p>
<p>“Well?” Sylvania gives a final snip and then steps back. “How are we feeling?”</p>
<p>Draco, who has been keeping his gaze trained on his lap, looks tentatively at himself in the mirror. “Oh,” he says softly. He stares at himself for a long moment, then turns to Harry.</p>
<p>“Do you like it?”</p>
<p>Harry nods, a lump, oddly, rising in his throat.</p>
<p>“It’s good,” says Draco gravely to Sylvania. “Thank you. It’s just right.”</p>
<p>She looks pleased. “Well. It does very nice things for an already excellent face, if you don’t mind my saying so. Your former haircut did not in any way accentuate those amazing cheekbones. Criminal. Your bone structure, my dear!”</p>
<p>Harry grins and Draco casts him a wry look. They both know Harry’s not going to let that one go. <em>Cheekbones, </em>he mouths. <em>Shut it, </em>Draco mouths back.</p>
<p>“Well, you’re all set, then. Unless you’d like to give some thought to coloring? Your hair, so pale, it would be the easiest thing in the world.”</p>
<p>Draco’s eyes grow wide. “Er,” he says. “I don’t think I’d make a convincing brunette.”</p>
<p>Harry snorts. Draco with a soft face and butter-yellow curtains is one thing; Draco with ordinary mouse-brown hair is quite another.</p>
<p>“No, nor a redhead,” Sylvania says cheerfully, causing Draco to choke—thinking, no doubt, of Weasleys. “I was picturing something a bit more out of the ordinary. Gold, perhaps, or a tinge of lavender.”</p>
<p>Draco with shining gold hair: now that would be a sight to see. Harry is quite sure it would make Draco look irresistibly beautiful and also like an unbearably posh git.</p>
<p>“A tinge…” Draco murmurs, then bites his lip. It’s a habit Harry had never seen in him at school; recently he’s been suspecting that Lucius bullied him out of it as a child. “How about a tinge of pink?”</p>
<p>Harry’s heart stops for just one small moment. <em>A tinge of pink.</em> Talk about things Draco wouldn’t have done at school: back in those days Harry would never, ever, <em>ever</em> have imagined the remotest possibility of Draco Malfoy voluntarily sporting pink hair.</p>
<p>“Rose,” says Sylvania decisively. “A hint of rose. Yes, that’ll be quite nice—it’ll bring out your color a bit. Let’s see…” She goes to her shelf of potions and serums and clicks her tongue as she scans the shelves until she finds the one she wants. She takes the shiny little bottle in her pudgy, manicured hand and waggles it at Draco. “Now, this one’s got a little luster to it. So it’ll gleam a bit in the right light.” She laughs at Draco’s face. “Not <em>glitter</em>, dear. Not even shimmer. Just a little bit of a shine.” He still looks doubtful. “Trust me, I think it’s what you’re looking for. But if it’s not, we’ll redye it. Magic!”</p>
<p>She smiles at him. He smiles back, a little reluctantly. Harry is stopping himself from shouting, <em>DRACO MALFOY, DYE YOUR HAIR PINK RIGHT NOW! </em>He is also gleefully picturing the look on Ron’s face when he tells him about it.</p>
<p>“Why not,” says Draco, almost but not quite achieving that lofty tone he usually executes flawlessly. “It’s only hair.”</p>
<p>Sylvania winks at Harry, then gets to work. She applies the serum with a small brush, gently combing it into Draco’s newly feathery hair. At first Harry isn’t sure it’s doing anything at all. Then, gradually, he notices a hint of color starting to suffuse the pale strands. When Sylvania finishes, she performs a high-powered drying charm, then takes the protective cape off Draco’s shoulders and lets him look at himself in his usual clothes—today, soft grey robes that make Harry want to touch him. Draco gazes at himself in the mirror, then turns to face Harry, a curiously unfamiliar expression in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Well?” he asks.</p>
<p>The white-blond sleekness of Draco’s hair has always made him appear handsome but a little cold. Against the paleness of his skin, it washes him out, making him look striking but alien—probably exactly what he, and his family, had been going for. But the pink in his hair makes him look…warm. Rosy, even. Like there’s blood in his veins and color in his cheeks. And when he tilts his head, the light bounces off it and Harry can see a rosy gleam here and there; he thinks it’ll look lovely in the sunshine. Not half so lovely, though, as the rosiness of Draco’s cheeks and the warmth of his smile.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Draco says, seeing his face.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” says Harry. He stops making himself stay seated any longer and gets up, grabbing Draco by the waist and kissing him on the mouth. Draco yelps and laughs into it so that Harry’s lips knock against his teeth. Harry reaches up to touch his hair.</p>
<p>“You’ll need a re-dye in a few months,” Sylvania informs Draco. “I can sell you the bottle, but it’s a bit tricky to apply and you’ll probably want a cut, too, so…”</p>
<p>They break apart. Draco scratches the back of his neck and coughs delicately. “Yes, we’ll set up a recurring appointment, I think, thanks very much. I’ll put it in my diary.”</p>
<p>“Wanker,” Harry says fondly.</p>
<p>Draco frowns as he takes out his wallet. “What?”</p>
<p>“Your <em>diary</em>. ‘Oh yes, thanks so much, I’ll put it in my diary, yes, I’ll have my butler make a note—’”</p>
<p>“Shut it,” Draco says, laughing, and they say their goodbyes to Sylvania and exit out into the cobbled lane.</p>
<p>“My <em>diary,</em>” Harry drawls.</p>
<p>“You,” Draco says, and pulls him in by his collar and kisses him squarely on the mouth, “are a menace.”</p>
<p>“You like me.”</p>
<p>“Merlin help me, I do.” Draco links his arm in Harry’s and starts them off down the street. “The Apothecary now. You promised me solid gold scales.”</p>
<p>“Did I?”</p>
<p>“Mm-hm.”</p>
<p>Harry can tell that Draco is looking surreptitiously at his reflection in all the shop windows they pass. He doesn’t blame him. He looks wonderful. He looks <em>happy.</em></p>
<p>“Is there anything else you want to pick up while we’re out?” Harry asks impulsively. “We could look for a rug, or a new quilt for the bed…”</p>
<p>“You know what I’d really like?” Draco says.</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Ice cream.”</p>
<p>He flashes Harry a smile and opens the door of the Apothecary, stepping into the dim, scent-heavy shop. Harry walks in after him, feeling absurdly pleased. They both know which of them always has a hankering for ice cream, and it isn’t Draco.</p>
<p>Maybe he’ll get bubblegum flavor. Or candy floss.</p>
<p>Something pink.</p>
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